Once in the shower, McCoy insisted on washing Spock — doing as much as possible while kissing him. He did have to pull back to shampoo Spock’s hair, but the skillful way his fingers massaged Spock’s scalp more than made up for the loss of his mouth. Then he made Spock face the wall so he could run the washcloth down his backside. Spock could feel his lover’s interest lingering over his buttocks, almost like the heat of the sun beating on his bare skin, then McCoy’s hands were grabbing the lobes and spreading them apart.

“You’ve still got my come inside, don’t you?” McCoy thought at him, startling Spock again with how articulately he was able to communicate without an actual mind-link.

“Y—Yes,” Spock answered, aware of the fluid swirling inside.

“Well… you should let it out,” McCoy told him, his tone teasing.

“Now? Here?”

“Why not? I’ll wash you when you’re done.” McCoy leaned in to lick the edge of Spock’s ear. “I wanna see it dripping out of you,” he added, managing to make his mental words sound downright lecherous.

Spock flushed in embarrassment and what might have been arousal if he had not already been drained dry. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on expelling the secretion from his body. He was shocked when he saw an image of his own buttocks with the viscous white semen dripping out — he was somehow seeing through McCoy’s eyes, even feeling the satisfaction McCoy was experiencing at the sight.

“Niiice,” McCoy drawled as Spock squeezed out more. “That’s a really pretty picture…. If I were ten years younger, I might be getting hard again.”

“In that case, I am rather relieved that you are older than I,” Spock confessed. “Although I would never refuse you, I am… quite exhausted.”

“Aww, Spock! I’m sorry, I’ve been wearin’ you out, haven’t I?” McCoy hugged him from behind and placed gentle kisses on his shoulder. “Even bruised you in a few places…. I’ll use the dermal regenerator on those. Is your ass sore at all? I’ll make sure you aren’t bruised inside. God! I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not running you ragged….”

“Oh, but I have enjoyed it!” Spock put in before McCoy could blame himself too severely. “It is very… satisfying… to have you inside. And I have not experienced any pain at all.”

“Well, good. I’d hate to turn you off to this, ’cuz, damn! I’m hoping to do this… a lot more… in the future.” A soupçon of anxiety tinged McCoy’s otherwise happy mood. “That is… if you want to, of course….”

“Leonard,” Spock said aloud, turning around to look him in the eye so that there would be no doubt about his words, “I will always be ready to accommodate you in this manner. In fact I will demand it of you if you ever deprive me for too long.”

“Yeah?” McCoy asked, a shy grin forming on his face. “I guess you could pull rank on me, too, if you ever needed to… you could actually order me to salute you.”

“That would be unethical,” Spock said, balking at the thought. “A serious breach of protocol.”

“I’m kidding, Spock,” McCoy explained with a chuckle. “I’m just saying we could pretend… you know, role-play: you would be my commanding officer, demanding that I ‘perform’ for you, and I would be your loyal underling, jumping to attention and happily doing whatever you told me to.”

Spock stared at him, uncomprehending. “I fail to see the purpose of such pretense. I am not your commanding officer, and if I were, it would be highly inappropriate for me to ask you to perform any personal favors, sexual or otherwise.”

McCoy took a deep, slow breath and nodded. “Okay… so I’m guessing you never did any role-playing with Uhura…. I mean, I can see why you would consider that particular scenario ‘inappropriate,’ but what I’m talking about is strictly relegated to the bedroom. In fact people who aren’t even Starfleet officers will sometimes pretend to be, to… spice up their love life.” He studied Spock’s reaction, which was vague bewilderment. “This isn’t computing for you, is it?”

“I do not understand,” Spock readily admitted. “What is the purpose for such… dissimulation?”

“The purpose is… it lets us be whoever we want to be… gets us out of our own skin for a bit. We can do different things, make up our own rules….” McCoy remembered why they were in the shower and used the washcloth on Spock’s chest. “For example, I could pretend to be an alien doctor whose primary sense is touch — or no, taste, for the sake of argument. You would be the first Vulcan-Human hybrid I’ve ever seen as a patient, so I’d have to lick every square inch of your body to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

Spock’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But any species capable of warp drive would have the technology—”

“That’s not the point,” McCoy interrupted. “It’s a fantasy, Spock; it doesn’t have to make sense. It just serves to give me an excuse to lick you all over.”

“You do not need an excuse to do so, Leonard, if you wish to.”

“Yeah?” McCoy looked at him with sudden interest. “You’d let me do that?”

“Of course, Ashayam. Why would I not?”

McCoy pulled him in for a deep kiss that set Spock’s nerves to tingling, the white lightning crackling through his body.

“Damn, Spock,” McCoy whispered when he finally withdrew his lips and tongue, “who needs to role-play when you’re so willing to experiment?”

“That is precisely my question. I do not comprehend the need for acting as though we were different entities if we are satisfied with our own situations.”

“Well, maybe I’ll be able to explain it better some other time… when I’m not so tired or hungry,” McCoy said with chagrin. “But for now I’m just sorry I can’t take you up on your offer.”

Spock caught an image in his mind’s eye of his lover licking his toes lasciviously and eyeing the path he would take up Spock’s long leg. It sent a shiver through his spine.

“I would be… delighted to participate in such an activity… when you have the requisite time available,” he managed to say as he blushed.

“Yeah?” McCoy looked pleased while his emotions conveyed happy incredulity at his good fortune. “Sometime soon, I promise. But right now I think we both need to refuel.”

***

Spock took charge of washing McCoy, which was a much more efficient process, interrupted only by loud growls from the Human’s stomach. McCoy used the dermal regenerator as promised on Spock’s bruises — although Spock protested that they were so minor as to not require treatment — and the tightening ointment on his anal muscles, then they dressed and left the apartment. They were discussing the various nearby restaurants as they entered the turbolift.

“Hi! Hold the lift,” a familiar voice called. Scotty came jogging up from the other corridor while McCoy re-opened the doors. “Thanks, Doc,” he huffed when he got in. “And hello, Mr. Spock! How’re you doing? I heard you fainted dead away in the office yesterday.”

“I am… doing fine. Thank you for your concern,” Spock returned with as much grace as he could muster.

“Scuttlebutt travels fast,” McCoy said with a chuckle.

“Aye, especially when there are so few of us left,” Scotty agreed. “But it’s good to see you out and about.”

“You going for supper with Keenser?” McCoy asked before they stepped off the turbolift and strolled onto the walkway.

“I would be, but the wee man is off visiting his mum. It’s some sort of holiday for his people and all fifteen of his siblings are gettin’ together. I’m glad we could spare him so he could go this time. He took Kevin with ’im, too, so it’s been downright peaceful around ’ere. Almost unnerving, if you know what I mean.”

While Scotty chatted, McCoy caught Spock’s eye with a meaningful look, so Spock focused on McCoy’s thoughts. The words “Scotty,” “lonely,” and “dinner” jumped out at him. He deduced what McCoy meant and was ready with a nod the next time McCoy glanced at him.

“Hey, Scotty, we were just going to grab a bite ourselves,” McCoy began anew. “Care to join us?”

“What? Of course not,” McCoy answered, somewhat confused and embarrassed. “I’m just keeping an eye on Spock to make sure he doesn’t have any more fainting spells.”

“Oh! So you’re not… going to be joinin’ your lady friends?”

Finally understanding the source of Scotty’s concern, McCoy let out an easy laugh. “No, no — not tonight. And you must be mistaking me with Jim ‘The Lady-Killer’ Kirk. He’s the one with the blue eyes,” he joked.

“Aye, but you’ve been makin’ yourself so scarce these days, I’d assumed you’d found a lady friend like the Captain has done.”

“You do know all the gossip around here, don’t you? What’d you do, reroute the grapevine to your comm?” McCoy accused with mock horror. “But no, I’ve just been busy at the hospital. They’ve had me doing surgeries and research projects like you wouldn’t believe. I’m enjoying it, of course — not often that I have the opportunity to work with the finest medical minds in the galaxy — but it’s keeping me out of trouble, dammit.”

“I’m sure we can find a spot of it tonight if you’re game,” Scotty replied with enthusiasm.

They went to a restaurant that Scotty highly recommended which neither Spock nor McCoy had visited before. The vegetarian menu was extensive enough to satisfy Spock and McCoy was impressed with their wide selection of Terran alcoholic drinks.

“Only a few beers tonight, though,” he said wistfully. “I have surgery scheduled tomorrow morning.”

“You sure you won’t try the haggis? It’s almost as good as my granny used to make — God rest ’er soul.”

“No, thanks,” McCoy said with a laugh. “I’d need a dram to enjoy it properly.”

While they waited for their meals to come out, Scotty entertained them with several humorous anecdotes from when the remaining engineering crew inspected the new ship being built and butted heads with the design team. Then as they started in on their food, he turned a shrewd eye on Spock.

“So, now… what’s going on with you and Lieutenant Uhura? She’s not with you tonight — and the day after you took a rather nasty tumble, too! Trouble in paradise?”

Spock, caught with his mouth full of lentil soup, could not answer right away, so McCoy spoke for him.

“They’re taking a break, Scotty. You know how it goes…. Plus Uhura’s got a lot on her mind right now.”

“Aye, I suppose… no-one can blame her after what that bastard put her through. But it seems to me like right now would be the time she needs her man the most.” His pointed expression was not lost on either of them.

“You are correct in your assessment, Mr. Scott,” Spock agreed. “Unfortunately, I have often disappointed her in my sensitivity to her needs… a fact that I most sincerely regret. This time she has decided that she would rather pursue her recovery alone, if for no other reason than to strengthen her own resolve. I am, of course, respecting her wishes.”

“Well, now… I’m right sorry to hear that. It can’t be easy after all these years…. Although I hope you don’t mind my sayin’, there’ll be quite a few interested parties when the word gets out.”

“I would not be surprised,” Spock replied, his tone mild. “She is an intelligent and attractive individual. No doubt there will be many ‘interested parties.’ I hope at least one of them will be a suitable companion for her.”

“That’s very big of you, Mr. Spock,” Scotty said in awe. “I’m not sure there’s many as would be so magnanimous right after their breakup.”

“Considering how I have contributed to the breakup and caused much distress for her — however unintentionally — it is the least I can do to wish her a more successful relationship in the future. And since I am pursuing a more compatible relationship myself, I sincerely hope she will be able to find one as well.”

McCoy sputtered, choked, and coughed on his beer, prompting Scotty to thump his back until his throat had cleared.

“Must you always be so blasted honest?” McCoy demanded, though wearily.

Spock raised both eyebrows at him. “I fail to understand why it would be preferable to prevaricate.”

“Wait! Hold on a minute,” Scotty put in. “Did you just say you were pursuin’ another relationship?”

“Indeed I did,” Spock answered. McCoy let his head droop into his hands.

“Scotty, this is to be kept in the strictest confidence,” McCoy stated, lifting his head to fix the engineer with a baleful glare. “If you so much as breathe a word about it… and it gets back to Uhura….”

“Aye! Of course, Doctor — mum’s the word!” Scotty held up his right hand as though swearing an oath, his left laid over his glass.

“Leonard, there is no need for secrecy,” Spock protested. “Nyota is well aware of my attraction to you and no doubt suspects that I am acting upon it already.”

“Suspecting and knowing for sure are two different things,” McCoy explained. “I know she must suspect, too, after the way she dumped your dad’s call on us today, but to have confirmation… to have it become public knowledge? That’s tantamount to suicide. And I, for one, do not have a death wish.”

Spock’s brows furrowed. “It is highly improbable that she would turn violent over these circumstances, much less homicidal—”

“Spock.” McCoy stared him dead in the eye. “I’m not saying she’s going to physically kill us. A woman doesn’t have to. And a woman of Uhura’s abilities can make life a living hell for us if she wanted to.”

“Aye, that’s the truth,” Scotty muttered, quaffing the rest of his drink.

“Plus it would humiliate her,” McCoy continued, lowering his voice, “to have it get out that you started seeing someone else so soon after you’d broken up. It’s only polite, Spock, to have a cooling-off period.”

“I see…” Spock replied, realizing the intricacies of the situation.

“Not to mention, it’s inadvisable to hook up with someone on the rebound,” Scotty added.

“Gee, thanks,” McCoy said blandly.

“Rebound?” Spock asked.

“Aye. When you’re still feelin’ vulnerable after a breakup, you tend to latch on to the first likely candidate that comes by — which scarcely ever works out.”